Persephone (Spider Man)
by Solthebookaddict
Summary: Constantia Maranzano is just a 15 year old high schooler, just trying to stay afloat in her own web of lies, deceit and double life. But when she meets Peter Parker, her entire web comes crashing down around her.
1. Prologue

Persephone tapped her foot on the rotting wood of the dock impatiently. She had been waiting for nearly ten minutes now. And no one kept Persephone waiting. People were always too scared to. But apparently this client was either incredibly cocky or incredibly stupid.

She sat, stiff backed, on the rusted metal railing of the pier dock as she pulled up her gloves the fabric smoothing.

"You're late," she said without looking up at the man who had just approached. She could hear his heavy footsteps as they creaked on the wood. "Took you long enough," she drawled coldly, the nightly chill pricking the back of her neck. She would have to charge him extra. That was the fine. You pay more the more of the deal you infringe on. She kept a strict meeting time for a reason.

She was a busy woman and she had things to do. Run a drug ring, mix up some more of the illegal narcotics and brews for said drug ring, and she had homework. Like, a lot of homework. Or at least she would soon when school started. But her chemistry teachers don't exactly accept innovative poisons and amnesia pills as extra credit.

"You're Persephone," he said, a bit awe struck, but also a little underwhelmed as though he had actually expected the real Greek myth to come and sell him things that shouldn't even be real.

Well, maybe she was a bit of a miracle worker when it came to that.

"Yes I'm her. Now do you have the money?" she asked impatiently, tapping her foot once more to emphasize her mood.

"Um yeah," he said, a bit skittish, but he forked it over, tossing her a large back pack filled to the brim with stacks of dollar bills. She smiled a bit at that. Her face was securely hidden by the black mask and large hood she always wore, covering her from view and potential recognition.

"It's a pleasure doing business with you," she said as she tossed him a small velvet drawstring pouch. Her insignia was embossed in silver on the dark material. The intricate wreath of flowers stood out in stark contrast in the low light coming from the city.

"These will work?" he asked, unsure. Strange that he made it this far and was still doubtful of her.

"How much faith do you have in me?" she simply responded. Mystery 101, always answer their question with a question of your own. Something her friend had taught her.

"It's just a lot is riding on your skill," he said, holding her steely gaze.

"Then it will work," she said, as she walked back up the dock towards where he was standing. "It always works," she said, standing next to him, their shoulders almost touching, but they face opposite directions. "You made it this far didn't you?" she whispered to him.

It was one of her most popular concoctions. Elysium. It caused someone to live in a state of constant bliss. Highly addictive, a real money maker for her. When she created it, the pale purple liquid was able to solidify and form small pills in the shape of a small marble, but one of those was able to sustain a week of bliss. She had been particularly proud of it. While it wasn't the most apparently destructive, it was able to bring people under her control after one dose, driven by their addiction and need for it.

"Thank you. I can't tell you how much it means to me that you helped me. I made one mistake," he said giving her a smile as though she was his savior. She took him. He wasn't good looking, but he wasn't ugly. Just mediocre. Then there it was, the slightest tan line on his finger. Something happened with his wife. He probably cheated. Remorseful cheaters were one of her more frequent customers.

"Then don't say it," Persephone sniffed indignantly. "Don't waste your breath," she said as she turned on her heel and walked away.

"Thank you," he said again.

She simply shouldered the bag of cash and went back home, not giving him a second thought as she dropped her indifferent facade. A necessary precaution to throw suspicion off of her in real life.

* * *

Spider Man cursed as he saw what was in that velvet pouch. The almost iridescent pills the man had bought. Once Persephone had left, the man had checked to make sure she hadn't tricked him. But sure enough, there they were.

Elysium.

One of the most dangerous drugs on the black market, only manufactured by Persephone, a quickly rising drug lord.

The goddess of narcotics. She was crazy. He had watched the entire exchange though. The man was desperate if he was buying Elysium from Persephone.

Crawling down the wall silently, he flicked out a web and plucked the pouch from the man's hands.

"Sorry, I can't let you keep that," he said with an air of a carefree yet apologetic nature. He felt bad for taking it, but he couldn't let this man do things with it.

Who knew what he was planning. Clutching the drug tightly, he swung across the buildings using his webs until he made it back home, the man's protests fading the farther he got.

This drug lord couldn't sell drugs in Midtown without him knowing. This Persephone lady now had to deal with Spider Man.

* * *

Connie was late. She was so late. She couldn't be late on the first day.

As she flew through the school campus, running as fast as her feet would carry her. She kept a firm grip on her backpack as she climbing through the stairwells going up until she reached the third floor.

Midtown High made up for it's limited square footage of land and, instead of building out, they built up. And it seemed smart until you were a student who had to climb the stairs every day. She hadn't meant to oversleep, it just happened and it rarely ever happened, but she was out late last night.

It was the first day and she was already off to an awful start. Sophomore year was supposed to be fun, better than freshman year at least. She was taking a ton of advanced classes and she was now regretting it as she continued climbing the stairs. Her classes were now spread out all over the school and this would be only one of many runs she would take that day throughout the now empty halls.

Sprinting into the classroom, slightly out of breath, Connie smiled weakly at the teacher, apology written all over her face.

"Sorry-" she mumbled as she took the only available seat in the back of the room next to a bay who seemed to be in her grade among all the upperclassmen.

"Alright, now that you have so graciously bestowed your presence, we can finally start," he teacher droned as he continued to draw diagrams of atoms on the whiteboard, cutting off the rest of her apology.

Connie didn't retaliate, but instead just took a notebook out of her bag and smiled at the boy sitting next to her. "I'm Connie Maranzano. Sorry I messed up the lesson," she apologized. If her teacher wouldn't let her apologize, maybe her new lab partner would.

"Hey, it's no problem," he said with an easy smile. "I'm Peter Parker."


	2. Chapter 1

"Come on Connie. You need to join some sort of extra curricular other than Science Honors Society. That just screams nerd," Avani Patel said, shaking her head at her as they walked down the halls of the school together.

Avani had been her best friend since the second grade and she didn't know what she would do without her constant dry humor and bad puns.

"Like the Academic Decathlon team doesn't scream nerd," Connie laughed as they dodged a gaggle of cheerleaders.

"Academic Decathlon team screams successful nerd. Come on. I'm in charge of recruiting more people and Michelle will be annoyed if I don't get any new members after everyone graduated last year. "It's just me and Peter and Michelle and this guy named Nick who doesn't say anything. You _have_ to join. We need your brain."

"But you're smart. You don't need me."

"We need your math and science brain, you're a total genius when it comes to that. And you're fast. Peter is unreliable, he cancelled on us last year and we had no idea where he went, Michelle and I specialize in history and Nick doesn't say anything. We need someone to do math," Avani protested.

"And what if I say no?" Connie asked.

We both know that you never say no. Especially when I ask nicely. I have a couple other people who are going to join. Liling Zhang said she might join, so did that small kid who has the same last name as me."

"The one who your bio teacher thought was your twin last year?"

"Yeah. Nihar who is like five foot nothing," Avani laughed.

"Hey, I'm like five foot nothing," Connie said, poking her friend in the ribs as they walked to the meeting for the Academic Decathlon team.

"No, you're five foot two. That's a whole two inches," Avani pointed out, pushing open the door to a conference room in the very back of the library.

"Hi Avani," Peter waved to her. "Hey Connie. I didn't know you were going to come to the meeting," he said.

"Well I am," Connie smiled as she took a seat next to Avani.

"We know she won't disappear on us at finals," Avani said with a pointed look at Peter.

"I said I was sorry," Peter said, throwing his hands up in surrender. "I won't miss it this time. I promise."

"Well this is why it was so important for Connie to come on board. We need her brain," Avani said, prodding the side of Connie's head.

"Exactly. I'm here to save you all from certain doom," Connie said jokingly.

* * *

"Hey Connie, wait up!" Peter called after her as she was walking down the hall with Avani.

"I'll catch up with you," Connie told Avani and she waited for Peter to catch up, slowing her step. "What's up Peter?"

"I was wondering if you could help me out with math. Like say if you had any of your old tests somewhere. Because that would be great," he said with a grin. "I may be good at science, but I'm total crap at calculus."

"Actually yeah I do have some I think. You're in Pre Calculus now right?"

"Yeah I am. Can you bring them at the next meeting?" Peter asked, his face brightening at the prospect of not failing.

"That's perfect. If you need any extra help, feel free to ask, I think I have extra practice somewhere. And I should be free after school if you ever need extra help," Connie offered. She was already tutoring someone in chemistry and she had no idea how she would juggle everything. She was taking so many high level classes, she had Science Honors Society and now she had to worry about being on the Decathlon team and she was a drug lord on the rise. The last thing was the most important for her.

She had a huge deal coming soon. She needed to have everything brewed by tomorrow. And she had no idea how she was going to do it. It wasn't like she could just ask Avani to come over and help her make narcotics and her family couldn't help her. They weren't exactly scientifically inclined.

She needed to make more Elysium, it was her most popular after all. She should probably make more Lethe as well. The memory drug was among her more popular brews and she needed a large shipment for next week. Might as well start now. Tartarus too. Unlike the other two that affected the mind, Tartarus was a fast acting poison. It was her most expensive killer. She had several that killed slowly or caused pain, but Tartarus was quick. A stroke and a heart attack combined caused a very fast death, especially coupled with paralysis and organ failure. But it was not nearly as painful as a slow organ failure.

"That would be great," Peter said. "If I need help I'll ask you," he said before dashing off down the hall, narrowly running into a few athletes heading off to their practice.

Connie waved at Peter and ran to catch up with Avani.

"What was that about?" Avani asked her, readjusting her backpack strap over her shoulder.

"Peter wanted my old Pre Calculus tests," Connie shrugged.

"He's desperate. So desperate. Cringe worthy actually. My little sister has more game than that and she sells sugar cookies in the back of the 6th grade cafeteria," Avani laughed.

"You're sister is a bad ass. My brother is a teddy bear," Connie said, shaking her head. "Besides, Peter and I are just friends. We've only known each other for like a week."

"Whatever you say. I'm calling it now. By senior year, you two will either be best friends or you will be in love," Avani said.

"What about Flash?" Connie asked.

"What about him?"

"We're dating. Remember?"

"Yeah, you went out like twice over the summer. It doesn't count," Avani said, rolling her eyes at her. Connie pushed Avani lightly and shook her head.

"Stop meddling in my personal life," Connie said, sticking her tongue out at Avani.

"I'm your best friend. That's my job. Who would meddle if I wasn't there?"

"Whatever. We better hurry before Vinnie kills me for being late. I told him that we would meet him five minutes ago," Connie said, checking her phone for the time.

"Like he'd ever kill you. Metaphorically or otherwise. Vincent Maranzano would rather hang my head on a wall if he got the chance. I'm pretty sure he hates me," Avani said as they exited the school to where Connie's brother was waiting for them.

"He does not hate you. If he hated you, he wouldn't give you a ride to and from school," Connie pointed out as she waved to him. "Come on. Let's go before he drives off without us," she said as she jogged over. Avani followed her over and hopped into the backseat behind Vincent as he sat wordlessly and glared. Though he always seemed to be glaring.

Connie pulled out her phone as it buzzed. Avani made it a point to never speak in front of her brother, especially when they were talking about other people or complaining about people he knew.

 **AVANI:** Are you busy tonight? Wanna have our long planned Arthur marathon?

 **CONNIE:** Yeah I'm busy and there's no way I'm going to have an Arthur marathon

 **AVANI:** Why not?

 **CONNIE:** Because it's stupid

 **AVANI:** It is not stupid it's hilarious

 **CONNIE:** Not really

 **AVANI:** Now you're just being vomitrocious

 **CONNIE:** That's not even a really word

 **AVANI:** Yes it is

 **AVANI:** Adjective. (comparative more vomitrocious, superlative most vomitrocious) (slang) Causing a desire to vomit; disgusting or gross.

 **CONNIE:** Did you just copy that from the internet?

 **AVANI:** Maybe...

 **AVANI:** It's still a good word

 **AVANI:** It's useful in almost all situations

 **CONNIE:** Whatever. Stop being vomitrocious

 **AVANI:** See?! I will sit you down and we will watch it. My sister watches it

 **CONNIE:** Your sister is like 11

 **AVANI:** So?

 **CONNIE:** You're 15

 **AVANI:** Doesn't mean I can't enjoy good tv

 **AVANI:** You're just jealous that you can't enjoy it

 **CONNIE:** Think what you want

"Can you two stop typing away at each other for two minutes, I mean you're sitting three feet away from each other," Vincent said, as he made a turn into Avani's small driveway.

 **AVANI:** Tell him I won't stop texting you

"And so he speaks," Avani said as she unbuckled her seatbelt. "Text me," she called after her as she hopped out of the car.

"I will!" Connie shouted out the window as they began to back out.

"You can't text her constantly," Vincent said as he adjusted the mirror.

"I can and I will," she said, sending another text just to tease him.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you," he said.

"You don't have to know. You're still coming with me tonight right? I have a huge deal and I need an extra set of hands transporting it," she said, confirming that he was still going to take her. She would need the extra muscle.

"We don't have a football game today and practice isn't for another hour so I should be home in time to drive the truck. Is it a big one tonight?"

"Yeah. I'll probably collect about ten million," Connie said casually as she continued to text Avani.

"Dad always knew you were the genius of the family," Vincent said, ruffling her hair.

"Well what's a genius without her sidekick?" she teased, giggling to herself. Her brother was at least twice her size, inheriting her father's strength, while she got the brains. But a lack of actual muscle required her to depend on him and others in this business.

"An unsuccessful genius?" Vincent supplied.

"Exactly," Connie said, smiling at her brother as they pulled up to their own home. It was a tall skyscraper that partially dominated the Manhattan skyline. The building was the base of operations their father worked out of as well as their home. On the outside it looked like a normal office building, the glass paneling reflecting the city and the sun as it made it's way across the sky. Right now it was glistening as the sun began it's slow decent downwards throughout the afternoon.

But on the inside, it was home to some of the dirtiest deeds and people in the world. Their family being one of them. Her family cover was that her father was a very successful businessman and the Maranzano Tower was just the base of their business.

But instead of trade and banking, her father ran a criminal underworld. A crime ring that she and her brother would inherit one day. Most likely, they would run it together, she would be the strategic mind and he would be the one that made sure people listened to them. After all, she was rather unassuming. An entire floor was dedicated just to her lab where she brewed up different drugs she could sell on the black market. The top five floors were their living space with bedrooms, kitchens, living rooms, and other things. More than they would ever need. And the rest were where her father conducted his business.

Her mother on the other hand wasn't all that involved with the business. She kept their finances on track and just told people she was a housewife.

And that brought them full circle back to Constantia and Vincent. They were in charge of whatever they wanted to be in charge of.

"Out you go Connie," Vincent said as he parked the car in the large garage. "See you at 8," he said as he pulled out again to do whatever it is he did. He was either at some sports practice or doing a job.

"Right. See you at 8," she said as she grabbed her backpack, smoothed her pastel floral printed skirt, and ran up to her lab.

* * *

"You know the drill. I'll flash the headlights three times when I see any sign of trouble," Vincent said as Connie opened the door and hopped out, her dark boots landing on the pavement right in front of the docks. It was near pitch black outside, the only source of light were the far off lights of the buildings back towards the heart of the city.

"I got it," she said as she shut the door. She made sure that her hood and her mask were securely in place as she strode back towards the near rotted wood of the pier.

And she waited. She had the meeting set up for nine so she could get there earlier. She did always like to add a dramatic flair. The mercenary her family had taken in had taught her everything she knew about being mysterious and dramatic during deals and missions. She hadn't seen Masque in a long time, but she still valued her lessons.

She heard the wood creak behind her as she looked out over the water. "Took you long enough," she drawled, not looking back, her voice was cruel and foreign. Nothing like how she normally spoke, but there was a time for flowers and pastels and there was a time for cruelty.

"I'm on time. Nine o'clock, just like I said," a rough voice behind her said. She turned sharply and assessed him. He was definitely a hired thug. Or a wannabe crime lord. Either way, he had a lot of money he could spend on her products.

"I was waiting. I don't like to be kept waiting," she said.

"Well I have the money-"

"Good, because if you didn't, I'd have to kill you," she laughed, the sound was hollow.

"Right. Here," he said hesitantly as he tossed a case full of money at her. It clattered at her feet and she nudged it with her foot.

"Here's the deal. In my hand is the key to warehouse three where you will find every drug you ordered, all perfectly concocted and impossible to replicate," Connie said as she held up a small silver key in between the fingers of her gloved hand. "If I find that you are short one cent on your payment, I'll have you hunted down and killed. Slowly. It'll be fun for me, but awful for you," she said, shrugging her shoulders in a 'who knows' manner. "For your sake, I hope you paid me in full," she said as she picked up the case and walked back down the pier to where Vincent was. She tossed the key over her shoulder. "Go wild," she said with a careless wave of her hand.

She could hear him scramble to catch the key before it fell through the planks. Making her way back to the car she allowed herself a smile.

* * *

Peter cursed under his breath. He let Persephone get away again. This was the second time he had let that happen and now she was a whole lot richer and that criminal was a whole lot more dangerous. He climbed across the wall as he followed the guy to the warehouse.

Something in her voice had been chilling. Merciless and unfeeling.

And now more than ever he had to track down this crazy woman before she gained anymore power than she already had. He continued to follow the man until he reached warehouse three.

"Sorry to interrupt," he called out as he webbed the man before he could unlock the door. Swiping the key, he unlocked the door and pushed it open. In the middle of the floor there was a small note written on a nice piece of stationary.

In perfect, neat script the message:

 _I hope this meets your expectations_

 _~Persephone_

Peter pocketed the note and looked around him, shelves lined the walls and they were filled with capsules and vials and powders all in various colors with different labels. One of them was labeled Elysium. It was a small marble shaped pill that was a pale purple. Another was labeled Lethe and it was an off-white chalky powder. There were many others that he didn't even want to look at. He grabbed a small unit of each one and then locked the warehouse as he snuck out.

He gripped the key and threw in into the river, hoping that no one ever found it and opened the warehouse. It had to be millions of dollars worth or narcotics in there. He couldn't let anyone else get into it.

It was time he found Persephone.


	3. Chapter 2

"Would you stop pacing Peter?" Ned asked, from his seat in the corner of Peter's room, a bulky laptop open in his lap. He was turning ever so slightly, back and forth in the revolving chair.

"I can't stop pacing," Peter said. "It's been a week since I first saw her and I'm still no closer to catching her," he said, sitting down on his bed in frustration, the mattress creaking under the sudden weight.

"Whoever this girl is, I'm sure it'll be fine. You have a good shot at getting a girlfriend," Ned said, leaning over to pat him on the back. "You went with that upperclassmen to the Homecoming dance last year," he said. "As a freshman."

"Not a girlfriend, Ned. Persephone. The crazy drug lord," Peter said. "You're supposed to be my 'guy in the chair'. Do you have any leads?" he asked. "Besides, that was last year. This is sophomore year. I have to be 'cool' Peter now, not Pity Date Peter," he said.

"Oh," Ned said, drawing out the syllable as he realized who Peter was talking about. Careful to keep their voices down, they continued to talk. "Shouldn't Persephone be a crazy drug _lady_? You know. Because she's a girl. At least I'm pretty sure she is," he said, tapping his chin.

"Fine. Drug lady. We need to find her," he said. "And we need to finish our math homework."

"Right. Can I see what you found again?" Ned asked.

"Sure," Peter responded, opening his sock drawer and pulling out a large plastic bad that was shoved in the corner and hidden. "Here," he said, handing the baggie filled with one unit of each drug he had found in that warehouse.

"Thanks," Ned said examining the contents of the bag. "Whoever this lady is, she knows her stuff," he mumbled. "Because her drugs actually glow," he said looking at the faint luminescent purple. "Didn't that new girl on the Decathlon team give you her old math stuff? Do you think some of the problems are the same?" Ned asked, switching the topic, as he continued to focus on the drugs, poking one with his finger through the plastic.

"Yeah, I'll see if I can find them," Peter said, shuffling through the folder Connie had given him the other day.

"Anyway, why are we trying to track down this lady? We've been on this case for hours already today. You said you would finally help me build the Death Star. I think we should take a break and come back with a fresh set of eyes," Ned said, looking to Peter and pointing at the half built Lego set on the shelf. "You promised me that months ago."

"Right, sorry Ned. We can do that now," Peter promised as he pushed the files and the research and the homework to the side and grabbed the set from the shelf.

* * *

 **AVANI:** I'm so bored

 **CONNIE:** It's not my fault you got dragged to some dinner

 **AVANI:** How come you don't have any sort of business dinners? I have so many doctor ones

 **CONNIE:** It's my fault your parents are successful doctors

 **AVANI:** :P

 **CONNIE:** You could always just skip next time. Say you have homework. Parents always believe the homework excuse

 **AVANI:** My parents would just say to stop texting and start managing time correctly

 **CONNIE:** That is also true.

 **AVANI:** They barely have any vegetarian food. I'm eating soggy french fries and bad salad

 **CONNIE:** You think they'd have better food

 **AVANI:** I know right? And the fries are these weird healthy things. They don't even taste like fries

 **CONNIE:** I don't know what to tell you

 **AVANI:** You can tell me you love me and everything's going to be alright

 **CONNIE:** I love you and everything will be alright.

 **AVANI:** I wasn't serious

 **CONNIE:** And I was trying to help you

"Hey Connie, why don't you get off our phone and help me with this?" Tina asked, bringing her back to her surroundings and out of her little texting bubble.

"Yeah sure. Just give me one second," Connie said.

 **CONNIE:** I have to go. Talk later?

 **AVANI:** Don't you dare leave me here

 **CONNIE:** Sorry

 **AVANI:** CONSTANTIA DON'T YOU DARE STRAND ME HERE

 **CONNIE:** I will text you later I swear

 **AVANI:** Whatever you're abandoning me to do better be important

 **CONNIE:** It is. Now eat your weird french fries

Sending that last text to Avani she slipped her phone into a pocket in her skirt and running over to help Tina.

Valentina Rivera, better known as either Tina or by her alias Mirage was one of the only people around her age in the Criminal Underworld. Which is where she had elected to spend her Wednesday night instead of in her lab or at Avani's house. The latter was because of the fancy doctor dinner Avani was trapped in. Tina was her brother's age and could probably pass as some South American movie star or model or something like that.

Tina had taken basically Connie under her wing when she had expressed some interest in what she did. Tina was a spy and a thief as well as a decent weapons mechanic, fiddling with different types of firearms in her free time. If you needed information or a diamond or a decent rifle, you would ask for Mirage and a seventeen year old superhuman would respond. Because of her, Connie was now exceptional at picking locks. And thanks to Connie, Tina was no longer failing calculus.

Grabbing a box from Tina's outstretched arms she brought them over to the booth that Tina called her own little pawn shop in the outskirts of the Criminal Underworld. But you didn't have to be in the heart of the activity to get good business. You just needed to be well known and good at whatever it is you did. Tina was well known. So was Connie. She had her own little booth next to Tina's, but she only sold things out of there sometimes. Most of the time, it was just a spot people could find her if they wanted to arrange some sort of deal. That was the nature of the Underworld.

"Were you texting the Word Genius again?" Tina asked, heaving another box behind the counter.

"Word Genius?"

"Yeah, she's the Word Genius right? You're the Number Genius. Now that you're on the Decathlon team like the nerdy genius you are, I have to label everyone. Peter will be Flakey Genius. I heard about what happened last year, Liz would not stop complaining and it was so annoying. Michelle is Edgy Genius," Tina continued. "Ned can be Supportive Genius, Nick can be Mute Genius, and Nihar can be Tiny Genius," she concluded.

"And you know everyone on the team because?"

"You told me about them. And I go to the same school as you," Tina said, shaking her head at Connie. "Besides, I know things. You know where I work," she said gesturing out to the Underworld.

The Criminal Underworld was a large structure made up of several large warehouses with several levels below them and several levels of catwalks above them. Booths were scattered around the majority of the space, making up crooked aisles that spanned the entirety of the Underworld.

Placing a box on the wooden counter of the booth, Connie brushed off her skirt, careful to keep any sort of grease or dirt off of the floral print, the pale fabric stained easily and she wanted to avoid that as much as she possibly could.

"You should wear a pair of pants once and a while. Or maybe a black skirt," Tina suggested, wiping her hands on her own pair of baggy cargo pants leaving oil and grease stains on the material. "Then the stains would blend in."

"Well I would, but I think they're uncomfortable. Besides, these look nicer on me," Connie said, twirling her skirt slightly so the pale fabric spun around her knees.

"Well at least it's somewhat conservative. Your old man would have a heart attack if he saw you in any skirt higher than your knee, even then," Tina said making a face.

"Thank you. I think," Connie said, sitting on the corner of the counter as she watched Tina unpack her things onto the table.

"But what do you where when you're brewing your little magic potions?" Tina asked.

"Number one, they aren't 'magic potions'. That's impossible. And two, I weak a smock to cover my clothes," Connie said somewhat self conscious of what she was wearing now. She wore variations on the same outfit nearly everyday. A skirt, typically either pastel or floral print or both, and a tee shirt. When it got cold she added leggings and a coat. She didn't really have that much variety, much to Tina's dismay.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Mirage," a man asked. A man Connie recognized easily. She had sold drugs to him a few weeks back, not that he would be able to recognize her now.

"Who's asking?" Tina asked.

"Jackson Kent," he said. "I needed to hire her, and they told me to come here," he said.

"Well it's your lucky day because Mirage is present and speaking," Tina said, continuing to unload the large cardboard boxes into her booth.

A look of shock passed through his face before Jackson regained his composure. Though it was almost funny to see him try to process that the person he was looking for was a teenage girl. Connie shot him a warning look that clearly said to tread lightly. Whether he heeded her warning or not was his decision. He simply passed a file across the table to her and waited for her response.

"This better be worth my time," she said as she looked inside the large envelope the papers were concealed in. "How much?"

"We are willing to offer you a large sum," he began.

"I need a number."

"Look if it's too big of a job for you I can go somewhere else," he said, but she cut him off.

"I don't know if this is an age thing and you think I'm too young, because you already knew I was a woman, so I'm going to say that you think I'm just a kid who can't handle this heist. This is something I could do in my sleep. You want Mirage and you're going to get her. You do know what I can do right?" Tina said, raising an eyebrow at him, no trace of a smile could be seen on her face.

"I-" he tried to speak again before being cut off once more.

"I create illusions so real you'll believe them, you won't even question them. I could make you believe you were a chicken or a cow or some other type of livestock. I could make you believe you were on Mars or underwater and watch as you slowly suffocate yourself. If I really wanted to I could create an illusion of pain so severe and so real, your nerves would overload and I would kill you. I can do whatever I damn well please to your tiny little mind and you couldn't do anything about it. I think I can handle this," Tina said darkly, slamming a rifle down on the wood as she pulled it from the box. "Do you still want to question me about my capability?" she asked, her voice was dripping in false innocence and sweetness.

"No," he said simply, his face draining of any color. Connie gave him an apologetic 'I told you so' shrug and went back to silently supporting Tina while sorting through bullets.

"Good, now I think this is a proper payment," she said writing a number down. A large number.

"That can be arranged," he said tersely. "We will be in touch," he added, walking away. Connie could swear that she saw his hands shake.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Tina waved as he walked away. "Another costumed scared to pieces," she laughed.

"I'm very impressed," Connie said. Tina and Helene had taught her everything she knew about conducting business and getting people to take you seriously, but she hadn't seen Helene in a while. Tossing a stray bullet in the air, almost as easily as you would flip a coin, Connie caught it and quickly loaded it into one of the pistols that had just been unpacked. She quickly aimed, but she kept the safety on. She had no intention of firing it here.

"Woah woah woah. What do you have there?" her father asked her, laughing at her and holding his hands up in the air from where he was standing, having just arrived in front of them, the pistol aimed firmly between his eyes. "You can't shoot anyone with that sort of form. You need to extend your arms a bit more, hold them steady and brace yourself for the kickback," he advised.

"Sorry," Connie said, giving her father an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to try and shoot you," she said, placing the gun down carefully next to her. Her father, Salvatore Maranzano, was a large man, very unlike her mother who was rather wiry. But he always said that there was more of him to love that way. Her father was large and rather strong as well, making him seem all around intimidating.

"That's okay my _tesoro_ ," he said giving her a brief yet tight hug using his common term of affection for her. He liked to randomly insert something in Italian to tease her and sometimes he would try and convince her to switch from studying Hebrew to studying Italian. She had chose between her parents' languages and had chosen Hebrew purely because the alphabet they used looked cooler. "Have you seen your mother yet, Constantia?" he asked her, scanning the booths. "I haven't seen her yet today and she said she would pick you up and take you and your brother out to dinner," he said.

Squinting out into the crowded floor she monitored the few bodies that weren't behind booths or engaging in some sort of illegal activity. "Wait I think I see her," she said looking for her mother's face, but it was hard considering her mother didn't like to wear bright colors. When she did spot her mother, she waved high in the air hoping to get her attention.

"Keep waving like that and people will think you're high off your own stuff," Tina teased.

"Hello Ms. Rivera," Connie's mother said with a soft chuckle from behind them.

"Oh um hi ma'am," Tine said. "I'll just go now," she said skittishly, ducking behind the booth she was attending.

"Well alright then," Ariella said, kissing her husband on the cheek and hugging her daughter. "Ready to go?" she asked Connie. "I'll assume your father has actually remembered to tell you the plan for dinner."

"Of course _Eema_ ," Connie said, using the Hebrew word for mother, the same way her father inserted bits of Italian into his speech, Connie and her mother inserted bits of Hebrew. It was like a never ending battle to see who could get the other one jealous first. And that battle had been going on long before Connie or Vincent were born.

"Bye Ariella," Salvatore said before she left. "I'll see you at home," he promised.

Connie's mother, Ariella Maranzano, was breathtaking to the point where some people would stare at her, even now as grey started to appear in her hair. Her father said that when they were younger, she could get entire rooms to focus on her, just by smiling. Her father said that he had been lucky enough to catch her attention in college before anyone else could. Whenever he told that story, her mother would whack his arm and tell him to stop making it seem more dramatic than it actually was.

Wrapping an arm around her daughter, Ariella guided the two of them out to where Vincent was waiting. "Get in the car, dear," Ariella said to both of her kids. "Let's go."

* * *

"Hi Connie," Peter greeted as she took a seat next to him in chemistry the following morning.

"Hi Peter," she returned, pulling out her notebooks from her bag, not even pausing to look up. "How are you?" she asked politely as she finally drew her eyes from her bag to him. It looked like her hadn't slept much that past night and she hoped it wasn't because of homework or something like that. When she stayed up late to finish schoolwork, she was always miserable the next day.

"I'm alright," he said, giving her a tired smile, but it still seemed genuine so she went with it. "What about you?"

"I'm alright as well. The day hasn't become bad yet and I intend to keep it that way," Connie said with a firm sense of optimism.

"Right," Peter said doubtfully, dragging the syllable as he opened his own notes for the class and Connie caught sight of something that didn't look like chemistry, but she didn't pry too much into it. She had her own fair share of notes in her various notebooks and binders that had nothing to do with school and more to do with illegal substances that no fifteen year old should be concocting and creating.

"By the sound of your tone, I would say your day is already off to a bad start," Connie said, tilting her head to look at him. "It's only first period. There are five more after this. Six if you count lunch," she said. "Some people count lunch as a period, though I think the only thing you learn is who's dating who and how to eat an entire meal in half an hour."

"My day is normal," Peter assured her.

"Which means it's bad?" she asked. "Or it's good?"

"Sure, let's go with that," he said, not giving her a clear answer before switching the topic to something other than his current mood. "Are you coming after school to Decathlon practice?".

"I guess I am," Connie said. "What days exactly do we meet?" she asked, having been invited to the team with open arms and a few passive aggressive looks towards Peter from the other members when they were telling her how much she was needed after last year's fiasco.

"Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays usually, but you don't have to go every day," Peter said. "We only meet for like an hour after school," he assured her.

"Well last time I checked today was a Wednesday so I guess I'll have to come. I'll be there," Connie said. She had history with Avani last period anyway and Avani would never let her skip.

"Great!" Peter said with a little too much enthusiasm than was necessary, but it was appreciated.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she penciled the Decathlon meetings into her planner. She had that three days a week and then she had Science Honors Society on Tuesdays and National Honors Society on Thursdays. At this rate she would get sucked into more clubs and teams and she wouldn't go home until nine at night. She really hated to say no when someone needed her.

As their teacher walked in to the class, Connie looked up, tapping the pencil's eraser on her planner. "Anyway, are we still going to the competition next month?" she asked, flipping through the calendar with various test dates and projects already marked in.

"Ms. Maranzano, if you would care to join the class and stop talking to Mr. Parker that would be lovely," her teacher said, looking at her with an ever present frown on his face.

"Sorry Mr. Clark," Connie mumbled apologetically before looking back up to where he hadn't started teaching yet.

Peter gave her an odd look, but she ignored it.

"Forgiven Constantia," her teacher said smugly, turning back to the board.

As the last bell rang, signaling the start of first period, Connie turned her attention back on the lesson that had yet to start while Peter placed some of it on copying whatever she wrote.


End file.
